Welcome to my life, Owl Meat. EL
Sometimes there are subtle signs that a restaurant might not be for you.
• You have to construct your own burger, pasta, etc. from a menu of 50 ingredients. Be a chef already.
• Bathrooms with ambiguous male/female silhouettes. Or labels like Knights/Damsels, Dudes/Dudettes, or Caballeros/Caballeras. Dios mio! My bladder is exploding.
• They display a yellowed award that is over ten years old.
• A place called Prometheus' Buffet where an eagle eats your liver – every day. Caveat emptor. Any restaurant named Caveat Emptor should also be avoided. (Don't worry the Latin/art history part is over). ...
Prometheus (1868) Gustave Moreau
• Waitresses in black uniforms that resemble retro morgue attendants. Not that there is a restaurant in Baltimore that dresses their servers as grim Todeswitwen.
• Menus with food stains. No scratch & sniff.
• The chef is sitting at the bar doing shots of Jaegermeister with the dishwasher. Ditto for mumblety-peg.
• Photos of the owner and family with washed up minor celebs.
• The chef has a tattoo ... of Anthony Bourdain ... on his neck ... shooting up.
• Three words: Day old sushi.
• The "sommelier" parked your car.
• Your waitress is named Fajita and when you order the "Sizzling Fajita," she says, "Ooooh yeah" and blots her lipstick.
(Photo credit: Getty Images)